


Suppose You Like Being Called a Slut Too?

by DabbaDoo



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angry Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Lee Taeyong, Canon Compliant, Come Swallowing, Comeplay, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Face-Fucking, Hand Jobs, Hate Sex, I Tried, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung is Lazy, Kitchen Sex, Lee Taeyong is a Tease, M/M, Mentioned Lingerie, Mild Painplay, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, Other Characters Are Mentioned, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Spanking, Top Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung, degradation kink, i think, mentions of bondage, plot if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:28:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27541585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DabbaDoo/pseuds/DabbaDoo
Summary: One thing Taeyong asked for him to do-one bloody thing! And he couldn’t even do that. Turns out, that's nearly enough for both Taeyong and Dongyoung to snap.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 2
Kudos: 188





	Suppose You Like Being Called a Slut Too?

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer- this is a work of fiction and is not meant to be a real depiction of the people/characters present.
> 
> I'm back... I'm so sorry. I thought doing hate sex would be fun but it was actually really hard so props to those who can convincingly pull this shit off. Not my proudest work, ngl, but we could all use a little DoTae before NCT 2020 Pt. 2 comes out. I tried a new structure, too, which is pretty exciting lol happy reading!

Dongyoung and Taeyong had a knack for arguing with one another. It was incredibly obvious, poking through the screen even when SM Entertainment was not trying to capitalise on their dynamic. It had even become a meme within the fandom Mark had told them, and for a solid week they spent their free time looking at the jokes and tweets from fans.

Sure, all the members fought with one another. It was unrealistic to ask that a group of stressed out, growing, surely horny group of teenage boys and young adults not argue. They fight just like one does with their siblings or family or friends, but sometimes those arguments transcend petty inconveniences and become full fledge arguments that Taeil or Johnny have to fix. 

Sometimes, Dongyoung and Taeyong’s arguments are amusing, and the younger members get a kick out of it and can see the light in their seemingly endless bickering. Their most recent argument though, was not like that. 

It happened a few days ago, when Taeyong kindly asked Dongyoung to help him and Johnny clean the dorm-room. They (most of them) had a few free days to breath, a grace period with no schedules before it was nearly time for the NCT 2020 project to be filmed and released to the public, and Taeyong was going to take full advantage of that and finally clean the apartment. How their apartment ended up so messy when all they have been doing in there is sleeping, was beyond him. 

Taeyong knocked on the door, waiting for a moment (he had walked in on one-too-many scenes he wished her hadn’t), and walked inside. There laid Dongyoung, on his phone, precisely doing nothing. Perfect, Taeyong thought. 

“Dongyoung-ah,” he said with a pink gloved hand on his hip, “get up. Come help Johnny and me clean the kitchen,”

“Too early for that hyung, go away,”

“It’s nearly—” Taeyong glanced at his watch, “—two in the afternoon. Get up,”

“No,”

Taeyong will admit that his refusal stung like a bee. Surely it wasn’t that difficult of a request?

“Don’t tell me no. Come help please,” he asked again, voice becoming whiny.

Taeyong waited patiently for an answer—he could honestly wait there for hours, waiting for a response—deciding on leaning against the door frame as the seconds ticked by. The situation had happened countless times, this was typically where Dongyoung would cave and he’d get up, ready to do what Taeyong was asking him to do, admittedly begrudgingly.

But this time, he didn’t say anything. He barely even lifted his finger to continue scrolling through social media. Taeyong felt a familiar burn in his chest, one he had felt multiple times directed straight at Dongyoung. 

Sighing in frustration, Taeyong flicked on the light which finally caused Dongyoung to sit up straight as glare at him, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance just as Taeyong’s were. It was childish, both of them could see how stupid the next few minutes were going to be but that didn’t stop them from proceeding.

“Taeyong-hyung, what the fuck?” he asked with unjustified aggression in his voice. 

“Don’t you swear at me.” Taeyong points at him, “I asked you to do one thing, and even that is too much for your lazy self? We’re a family Dongyoung-ah, not your servants in your palace of selfishness,”

“Okay, jeez, sorry. I’ll fucking help.” Dongyoung rolled his eyes.

And at that point, Taeyong didn’t even want his help. Not if that was any indication of how he was going to act. Instead, he told him to lay back down as he’d be more helpful there than he would helping him and Johnny anyway, slammed the door on his way out and told Johnny about what had happened when he arrived back in the kitchen.

Since the incident, the tension has been high between the two and the other members took notice of it too. Most of them knew what had happened to an extent, curtesy of Johnny telling them when they asked what happened, Taeyong bitching about it rather loudly to Taeil and Jaehyun, and Dongyoung sulking about it with Jungwoo.

The tension never died down, not even when Donghyuk had brought home sweet, ‘little’ Sungchan and Yangyang for dinner one night with the request that they both prepare dinner for them for the first time because Donghyuk had apparently been bragging about their cooking all day at the practice rooms (not that they had to be at the practice rooms but Yangyang had invited them there to hang out in the only safe place he knew). 

Taeyong had to wake up extra early this morning. He and Mark were set for an early morning schedule with SuperM, however, he told Mark to sleep in for an extra hour because he, out of all 23 of them, hasn’t had a rest yet, and he told him he would go up to the 10th floor, wake him up and help him get ready. It was a nostalgic memory, Taeyong and Johnny used to do that for him when they first debuted. He admittedly missed being able to baby Mark like that, but at least he had the rest of Dream to do that too, and the two new members that has joined their family.

He expects to be the only one awake, up, and busy at the early hours of 4:30am, but as he trugs into the—spotless—kitchen, the smell of bland rice and kimchi fills his senses. His mouth waters, suddenly realising he skipped dinner last night and he’s ready to give whoever is cooking him breakfast the biggest hug. It takes him until he hears the clattering of utensils to realise Dongyoung is the culprit. Immediately, out of pitiful spite, he’s no longer hungry. 

“Morning Taeyong-hyung, you hungry?” It sounds like it should be a nice gesture, but Dongyoung’s voice is laced with tension.

“No,” Taeyong deadpans, purposely gabbing an apple from the fridge. 

Dongyoung looks at him. 

“Seriously hyung? Grab a plate, I’ll serve you in a moment,” he says with a forced smile.

“No,” 

“Stop telling me no. You have a big day today-”

“Stop telling you ‘no’?” Taeyong interrupts, “like you stopped the other day? That’s rich coming from you,”

“I’ve made breakfast to apologise, okay? I’m sorry.” Dongyoung genuinely looks apologetic in that moment as he stops and stares at Taeyong, but Taeyong is so fed up and annoyed and is running on petty anger coming from the situation that he doesn’t even see it. 

“Yeah right you’re sorry,” Taeyong says quietly, yet the harshness in his voice makes his words loud and clear.

“You know what—” Dongyoung begins as Taeyong starts to walk out of the kitchen, “—I don’t even care anymore. You are acting like a child and I refuse to take part in such a pathetic conversation with you.” And for the cherry on top, he makes an effort to place the bowls on the counter rather loudly.

At that, Taeyong stops. He has barely made it out of the doorway as he spins around, voice red as he says, “Oh, I’m childish? Me? You’re hyung, your leader, who is currently chasing comeback after comeback, schedule after schedule, dealing with not only my damn problems but all of yours as well? That’s childish?”

“Yes, now stop bragging about how great you are. We get it,”

“Oh, my lord, shut up!”

“No—you shut the fuck up!”

“Make me,” 

Dongyoung cocks his head to the side, eyebrow raised, as he plonks the last bowl down on the counter and saunters closer. Taeyong doesn’t budge until Dongyoung is looming over and suddenly he’s feeling smaller than he actually is, and he hates that he loves that feeling.

They are pulled impossibly close when Dongyoung grabs a fistful of Taeyong’s pyjama shirts neckline and tugs. They’re chest to chest, breaths mingling with the others, and Taeyong doesn’t believe they’ve ever been this close. Not even for a performance, and the heat stirring in his lower abdomen isn’t helping.

“Get on your knees then,” Dongyoung demands, voice hushed yet authoritative and Taeyong’s legs are already buckling but he can’t give in that easy.

So, he pushes against Dongyoung to move him back, making it a point to make sure their crotches rub together. His hands went down to grip at Dongyoung’s hips, pinkie finger slipping under his waist band teasingly. He pushes until Dongyoung hits the counter, a challenge playing in his eyes.

Dongyoung must have seen it, because in response he places his hands on Taeyong’s shoulder and forces him down. Taeyong drops instantly and the pain in his knees is intoxicating. He immediately pulls down Dongyoung’s plaid sleeping pants Jeno bought him years ago for his birthday.

His hands roam the freshly waxed expanse of skin, nuzzling his nose against his inner thigh, teasing with his heavy breathing. He can’t help but nip at Dongyoung’s skin, and the way it had Dongyoung throwing his head back is as addictive as it is breathtaking. 

Dongyoung’s hands go to grip a hold of Taeyong’s fading blonde hair as he grits his teeth in an effort to calm himself down. He tugs him closer to where he’s beginning to feel hard, hot, and bothered, “hurry the fuck up.”

His jaw is clenched as he speaks. Taeyong tugs down his boxers and is finally met with Dongyoung’s growing hard-on, material pooling around his ankles. He isn’t fully hard yet, but Taeyong can tell that the atmosphere is making Dongyoung flustered. He can get him hard, no doubt. 

“You’re kinda whiny,” Taeyong tsks, letting his nails run along Dongyoung’s legs.

Dongyoung tugs his hair, desperate for something to happen, but he accidently tugs too hard and it causes Taeyong to let out a sweet little noise, one that goes straight to Dongyoung’s dick. He pulls harder, the noise being the only thing giving him any sort of stimulation that he is craving. 

Finally, though, a hand wraps around his dick, not moving, and a breathy sigh comes out of Dongyoung. Taeyong takes it upon himself to tease a little further, using his other hand to ride up Dongyoung’s shirt and trail his tongue along his v-line. It had been looking delicious these past few weeks. 

“Taeyong-hyung, stop fucking teasing,” Dongyoung says, however, the command loses all value from how desperate he sounds. He yanks on Taeyong’s hair, and it’s the hardest he’s pulled, and yet, it’s the loudest Taeyong moans, breath hot against his skin, “you like that? I suppose you like being called a slut too,”

It’s not even a question. He says it with a sense of casualty to it that has Taeyong reeling in excitement. He rests his forehead against the hip in front of him, starting to stroke gently. It’s a strange feeling, Taeyong hasn’t done this since his teenage years before he became a trainee, yet he does it with experience and certainty.

“Yeah, I do,” Taeyong snaps up at Dongyoung, “and what are you gonna do about it? Call me a whore and make me cry? Of course you would, and you’d do it here, where anyone can walk in,” 

It’s a challenge, clearly fuelled by the situation that transpired this whole situation, and Dongyoung sees through it as clear as day. The grip in Taeyong’s hair fortifies itself as he tugs closer to the scalp and practically drags Taeyong’s face to his dick. It’s a fight he can’t win. 

Taeyong tries to, but he can’t hold off any longer. He licks a long stripe from base to tip with the top of his tongue before flattening it and dragging it along the underside of his dick. Eye contact remains as he gives gentle kitten licks. 

He knows teasing any further is pointless, and holy fuck, he forgot how amazing it felt to be on his knees, one step away from being treated like his only purpose was to be used and discarded but also too angry to give up the fight and tell Dongyoung what he really wants him to do to him.

So, instead, he takes him in, slowly edging halfway down his dick until he meets his hand that is still pumping and pulls back. He makes sure he has enough saliva in his mouth when he goes back down, letting his tongue message a vein as he sinks deeper. When his hand is in the way, he retracks it, and stretches his hands behind his back so he can continue to suck Dongyoung off without assistance. 

Dongyoung isn’t sure if he’s in pain or experiencing pleasure he’s never had the opportunity to experience. The warm, wet sensation around his dick is delicious and addictive, and he can’t find it in himself to be angry about it. He’s meant to be mad, especially at Taeyong, but he isn’t. 

It’s when Dongyoung’s dick intrudes the back of Taeyong’s throat that Taeyong moans, sending vibrations through his dick and up into his throat where he too moans at the feeling. It all happens so fast, and he can feel a heat in the depths of his stomach awaken from its slumber. 

But all that wet, stimulating pleasure disappears when Taeyong falls back on his heels to catch his breath. Dongyoung doesn’t really get that hint and pulls Taeyong back though he doesn’t budge. Frustrated, Dongyoung huffs.

“Fuck my face,” Taeyong demands, opening his mouth expectantly.

“Do I look like I fucking take orders from your pathetic ass?” 

Taeyong raises a brow, “do it or I leave you high and dry, asshole,” he spits back, both metaphorically and literally, still keeping his mouth open, ready for Dongyoung to do whatever he pleases.

Dongyoung doesn’t give himself the chance to even hesitate and fight back because Taeyong bites with his barks, and would leave him, immediately threading his fingers in Taeyong’s hair and tugging him back to his dick, his tongue jutting out to circle and kitten like the tip as he gets closer. His hands find purchase stretched behind his back, arching his ass out. 

The position probably would of looked sexy if it wasn’t for the fact that they were currently wearing pyjamas, but Dongyoung still finds it attractive. Perhaps if he was wearing lingerie; a black lace bralette and matching, see-through panties with a collar around his neck, black thigh highs, in a puddle of red roses and surrounded by candles.

But perhaps Dongyoung’s imagination runs a little wild as he moves Taeyong’s face for him, starting slow until as the image of Taeyong in lingerie gets the better of him and his hips join in rocking back and forth. Shallowly, his dick sways in and out, Dongyoung controlling every movement happening.

It’s a delicious build of tension, slowly building to the point where Taeyong believes he may cry out loud. He doesn’t like it slow, never has been his thing. Not even when he masturbates in the shower (honestly the only place he really gets privacy but even then, sometime, the members will ask to shower together to save time and water). He finds himself wetly moaning in the depths of his throat.

Through the vibrations and moaning, Taeyong chocks when he feels the tip of Dongyoung’s dick graze the back of his throat. It’s an unexpected feeling, having been lost in the sensation of having something thick and pleasurable in his mouth for the first time in way too long. He quickly scrambles to hold his thumb in a fist, a trick to not choke some girl taught him at his sister’s wedding night, drunk off her mind. 

He looks up, just to tease Dongyoung a little more with the soft, innocent bedroom eyes he’s been working on since he learnt about the wonders of sex and being absolutely wrecked, however he already looks absolutely fucked and Taeyong moans. His hair is sticking to his forehead, silk pyjama shirt struck to his skin and eyes droopy in what Taeyong can only describe is pure ecstasy.

Taeyong’s eyes scream for more, pleading and begging and all those things Taeyong would be doing out loud if he could and wasn’t still angry. He briefly wonders if he should regain control, pull away and make Dongyoung mad, but then the tip hits his throat again, harder, and he loses the ability to do anything but moan.

“If you keep moaning like that, everyone will hear you hyung—but then again, I guess you’d love that, slut.” Dongyoung says with a sense of superiority in his seductive voice. 

It’s hot. Too hot. 

The words do nothing but stir something primal in Taeyong and he hums and moan, intentionally deeper, which by the way Dongyoung throws his head back and lets out a small ‘fuck’, causes a sense of pleasure flow into Taeyong’s new toy. 

“Hmm,” he hums, purposefully and teasingly. 

“Can’t even properly shut you up with a cock in your mouth,” Dongyoung says but there’s not much behind his breathy voice.

There’s a familiar yet new kind of head pooling in his lower abdomen, building up as the heat and wetness becomes too much for his stimulated dick and his thigh begin to tremble in a way they haven’t ever trembled. It’s not fear that’s causing them to shake, or exhaustion as it has in the past. No, it’s pleasure he hasn’t felt in years—pleasure given to him by another person. 

“Fuck hyung, I’m gonna—” Dongyoung says as he attempts to pull Taeyong from him, “—gonna cum hyung,”

Taeyong whines, bitchy, but he grabs Dongyoung and starts to jerk him to his finish. Their eyes meet and stay trained on each other, peering into the others soul in search for something. His wrist moves with experience, much like Taeyong’s mouth and tongue did, and really, Dongyoung should question it, but he doesn’t. 

“I decide when you come asshole, so don’t tell me no when I’m so gratefully helping you.” Taeyong’s mouth falls open and he waits patiently, tongue rolled out and eyes still connected.

“You’re dirty hyung, so fucking dirty,”

“And you’re dirty enough to do this here with me, so who really is the dirty one?”

It takes a few more quick and easy tugs before Dongyoung lets out an actual moan, the first and would be last of the morning as he finally cums, hunching over and panting, legs shaking and knocking against Taeyong occasionally. His hands tighten his hold, nearly pulling hard enough to pull out Taeyong’s honestly damaged hair out.

Taeyong lets him pull and yank and squirm. It’s a small victory on his part, keeping up the fight as best he can while still revealing in the pleasure. He lets his mouth catch and swallow most of what Dongyoung spills, but neither of them are really aiming and some lands on his chin and cheeks. Eyes still connected, never once losing sight of one another, he reopens his mouth to show that it’s mostly gone. 

“Fucking slut,” Dongyoung whispers, gently platting where his hands have been ripping and pulling at for the past eternity. 

Taeyong stands, his legs almost buckling under the newfound pressure, “kiss me,”

Dongyoung complies, leaning forward to catch their lips together before he can second guess it and regret the decision. They skip the first stage, tongues immediately going to play together. It’s wet, hot and the taste of his own cum meeting his mouth is an experience. And he wants more. 

It’s not bad, the kiss hot and desperate, teeth cluttering before Dongyoung pulls back for just a moment, Taeyong’s bottom lip caught between his. They meet again, Taeyong chasing him and in the process rubbing his neglected hard on again Dongyoung’s thigh. 

He feels it and immediately takes pity, having forgotten that Taeyong wasn’t getting pushed and pleasured the same way he was. His thigh reacts, pressing up against Taeyong’s clothed dick. Their kiss doesn’t faulter, keeping a rhythm as Taeyong hesitantly rolls his hips once, twice, testing the waters.

“Go on whore, fuck yourself against my leg.” Dongyoung licks a small patch of cum off of Taeyong’ cheek, “I’m sure you’d love it,”

That seems to be the deciding factor for Taeyong as he lets go, letting his hip move against his flexed thigh. It’s not that muscular, or big for that matter, but it’s the right size for Taeyong to get lost in pleasure.

Now it’s Dongyoung’s turn for victory, soothing his hands against Taeyong’s back as he chases the high Dongyoung had. He busies his mouth with licking the rest of the mess on Taeyong’s face before kissing him again, sharing the goo on his tongue and sucking and biting.

Taeyong loves it. The feeling of being toyed, even if he’s the one who’s rutting up against Dongyoung’s thigh, still clothed. He loves it all. The way Dongyoung is using his mouth makes him knead, hands scraping to claw again Dongyoung shoulder and quicken his pace.

Down, deep in his stomach, he can feel it; feel the heat and the tightening contraction of an orgasm coming and he was prepared for it to hit him full force, but no matter how fast or hard he grinds, that sensation of relief never comes to him.

He was never good at using his hips, not like this anyway. Having pressure there and losing all sense of world, not even his profound dancing ability could help him. He was pathetic, the feeling so close yet so far, and almost too embarrassed to ask for that final push, but too desperate to give a damn. 

“Dongyoung-ah, please,” he whispers, hands tightening in frustration and fisting at the soft material, “please hit me, help me,”

“Do you except my apology?’ Dongyoung says, and for a moment it takes Taeyong out of the moment but as it turns out, Dongyoung has been chasing him with his thigh and continues to rub against him. “I won’t finish you if you don’t,”

Taeyong can’t even remember why he was so mad to begin with, his orgasm so close, so he nods pathetically, spouting out loud chants of ‘yes’, ‘please’, and ‘Dongyoung-ah’. He rambles on, barely even registering that Dongyoung is shifting them. His hips continue to rock regardless.

He feels a soft pat against his ass, Dongyoung obviously testing the waters for spanking. Taeyong whines for his to go harder, and so he does. The sound is muffled because of his pants, but the hit is hard enough for him to jolt, choking on Dongyoung’s tongue gratefully. Again, he smacks down, and elicits a similar reaction.

Panting, he bites against Dongyoung’s lips and pulls away, just in time for Dongyoung to catch the way Taeyong’s face contorts in pleasure. His face looks so pretty when he does it, the way his eyebrows furrow and his nose scrunches up as he loses his breath, even for a second. He is gasping, edging on begging. Briefly he wonders what it would be like to fuck into him, how it would feel and how he would react then?

Letting Taeyong’s head roll down to hide, his legs tremble more. It’s right there, so fucking close he can nearly taste his orgasm in his mouth (perhaps it’s just Dongyoung’s, he can’t tell). His throat betrays him, letting out uncontrollably pitched hiccups and moans after a particularly hard hit to his surely reddening ass. 

It’s when he feels a wet hand in his pants, stroking his dick and squeezing ever so tightly in time with a mercilessly hard spank that he feels it clear as day through his pants that he cums. No warning. God, it feels fucking euphoric to be cumming because of someone else. The world suddenly doesn’t exist, just Dongyoung and his magic hands that have just caused a realm of unimaginable pleasure. 

He really is a whore—a pain whore.

They stay glued together for what feels like hours but Taeyong knows it’s just the aftermath of doing something energy draining. Still, his breathing straightens out and he feels his body beginning to cool down, but they are plastered together, neither moving.

Taeyong’s head stays buried in Dongyoung neck, leaving invisible kisses there to calm himself down. His fingers, trapped on Dongyoung’s shoulder, draw circles against the fabric. He feels sticky, in his pants and on his skin, and he becomes hyper aware of the situation when Dongyoung takes a second to remove his hands.

Braving himself, he pulls away and looks up, watching as Dongyoung offers his hand for him to clean off. Taeyong smiles softly, leaning forward to do as Dongyoung so wordlessly asked for him to do, working from one finger to the next, making sure every millimetre of skin was free of white. 

The scene is weirdly soft and intimate, even if what he’s doing or what has just transpired is anything but. Sure enough, it nearly gives Dongyoung whiplash, but he’s too busy watching in fascination right now to care.

“Do you accept my apology?” He asks again, and Taeyong stops to look at him.

“Yeah,” he says breathily, “and I’m sorry too. It was so petty,”

“It’s okay, we’ve probably been though worse,” Dongyoung says, “but I never knew you were so fucking kinky hyung. Exhibition, pain, dirty talk—you’d probably like being tied up, huh?”

“Don’t say that, you’ll make me hard again,” Taeyong whines.

Dongyoung laughs, the air growing tense again, “will we ever do this again?”

Taeyong smiles, teasing, “if you make me mad enough,”

Another laugh runs through the room, and this time Taeyong joins in until they are both giggling messes leaning against one another. Dongyoung is the first to kind of calm down, turning and looking at the food, “I might be able to reheat the rice and some veggies if you’re up for it?”

“Put something over it for now and come shower with me.” Taeyong pulls on his hand, still giggling and smiling, and sure enough, Dongyoung follows through before they head to the shower, both of them a little wobbly in the knees.

It isn’t until after Taeyong picks up Mark and they’re in the car when he checks his phone for the first time and checking the 5th floor group chat notifications, does he realise that maybe, just maybe he was a bit too loud:

**John-bear •ᴥ• 5:07 am**

**dont go in the kitchen**  
**no exceptions**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. It's shorter than my other works, but I still hope you enjoyed and if my writing interests you, I have an ongoing NCT Hyrbid series I'm working on. I currently have two parts out, and it ranges from smut to fluff, any kind of kinks and any plot. I'm working hard to finish more parts with different characters and will try and post one every month, maybe two if they get shorter. I love requests (my ChenJi fluff was a request) so if you have any, comment. Thank you everyone!


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